


Nipples

by Culoniforsx



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: But trust me they do love each other, Dorks, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Ignis is embarrassed, M/M, Shipping is quite subtle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:17:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13849929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culoniforsx/pseuds/Culoniforsx
Summary: Fighting the Empire leads to unexpected wardrobe malfunctions.





	Nipples

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt "Ignis accidentally getting his shirt ripped like Jim Kirk" as suggested by... myself.

“Noct”, Gladio warns and taps lightly the prince’s shoulder, “look above.”

Noctis groans in exasperation. It’s been a really long day.

They’ve barely eaten anything since early morning and his stomach is rumbling. Sure Ignis’ breakfasts are the closest to a divine blessing he’s ever had before having _actual_ divine blessings, but not even those can make up for several hours of chocobo riding and heavy physical activity. They had snacks, though... in the Regalia. Prompto thought Noctis was taking them, Noctis thought Prompto had took them already and neither of them noticed they were left in the car until it was too late. Ignis suggested that they should save them for the next time they spend the whole day hunting, but Noct had already full intention of eating them as a second dinner.

They’ve been walking for a long while, too. Initially, it wasn’t in their plans to make it so damn far, or else they — Noctis, that is — would have been more careful keeping account of how long they had until the rental period ended. That might had happened at some point before they determined it was time to return, which resulted in them having to make their way back on foot.

So aside from being hungry and all worn out, now they have an imperial aircraft over their heads, too close to even think of fleeing before it’s too late and taking a different route instead.

Gladio has already summoned his weapon — the massive greatsword resting on his shoulder, ready to be swung at any given moment.

“Might as well earn our dinner.”

Noctis stops in his tracks too and lowers into a battle stance, eyes fixed on the ship’s hatch as it opens.

“Sure.”

A dozen magitek assassins fall from above, making a distinct clanging noise as their metallic suits hit the ground.

“Let’s end this quick”, the prince commands, clenching his fingers around the grip of a pair of daggers. Gladiolus goes in first and breaks through the troopers’ formation. Noctis warps in second, then Ignis and Prompto help take them down one by one.

Minutes later, the last of the soldiers falls motionless to the ground, a crushed mess of tangled limbs emitting filthy miasma.

“Aaaand it’s done!”, Prompto exults, wiping his hands together.

“Let’s get going. We’ve gotta make it back before it gets dark”, Gladio adds.

“Yeah, I’m starving”, Noctis agrees and walks on. He finds unusual, though, the lack of response from his advisor. “Specs, you coming?”

Silence.

“Specs?”

Alarmed, he turns around. The man is quite a few steps behind them, pinned to the ground as if someone had nailed his feet to it, and oddly stiff — even for him. His arms are crossed over his chest, yet he can’t quite hide the physical aftermaths of the fight.

There’s a straight and precise cut going from one of his pectorals to the other, the kind of injury that would be worthy of concern were it not because the little blood that comes out from it denotes that it is nothing but a skin-deep scratch.

But the wound is clearly not what has him so flustered.

His fancy dress shirt has been sliced open around the area harmed by the blade, revealing and perfectly framing both his nipples.

Noctis opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t really manage to make any sound. Much to Ignis’ misfortune, the other two both turn around to check on him too. Gladio raises his eyebrows at the sight, while Prompto’s jaw falls wide open.

Ignis clears his throat.

“I believe I could use a potion”, he drags his words, trying to divert the group’s attention back to his wound and away from his nipples.

And miserably failing to do so.

“And a new shirt”, the prince finally speaks after too many tortuous seconds of silence.

“I’m afraid so”, his advisor mutters, visibly affected.

Still, he refuses to walk a single step. Or rather, his body seems to refuse, mortified by the idea of people seeing him in such a shameful attire. He repeats to himself that they ought to hurry so they are back in the lit up safety of the town they’re headed to before it’s nighttime but, Gods, he’s frozen in place in pure embarrassment.

He’s considered asking for something to wrap himself in, but not only that would only add to the humiliation he already feels, but both Prompto’s vest and Noct’s jacket were most likely too small to fit him well and Gladio’s… Gladio is already half naked enough to even consider borrowing his. Not that the Shield would have any objections, but for the sake of decency he would rather not have him walking around entirely bare-chested.

To be fair, right now he doesn’t exactly feel like the living example of decency either.

The others seem to understand what’s going on in his brain, and look at one another waiting for someone to voice a solution.

Finally, it’s Prompto who takes out his vest and walks towards him.

“Here”, the blonde hands it to him. “Just wear it until you can change clothes”

Ignis takes a deep breath.

“Thank you”, though sincere, his words are spoken so quietly that he’s almost just mouthing them.

He can still feel their eyes on him when he finally gets to hide his exposed skin. After struggling to button the vest closed, he gives up, not wanting to mistreat a piece of clothing that is not even his own. It’s not perfect, but it least it keeps his nipples covered. Still, his left hand clenches to both parts of the vest, trying to keep them together.

“Good to go?”, Noctis asks, tugging his shoulder affectionately.

The advisor nods.

“Let’s hope we make it back with no more mishaps.”

Truth is, were something like that to happen to any of the three of them, they’d probably laugh it off immediately. However, that’s nothing like Ignis. He’s on a different level, more dignified, more educated… more modest, too. Having seen him so flustered is kind of strange —in the most endearing way. None of them actually voices it, though. Only after walking for a while, as the atmosphere feels less tense, they start joking about it.

“Never thought I’d ever see Ignis having a nip slip”, says Noctis.

“Not sure I’d call that a ‘slip’”, Gladio chuckled. “But I sure as hell never knew MTs were capable of having good taste”, he adds as he eyes the advisor.

Though his gaze is directed right to the area of skin that he doesn’t manage to completely cover, he also wants to make sure that their teasing is not upsetting him.

“In turbulent times, sometimes one has to be willing to make sacrifices”, he answers. His tone is serious as usual, but an educated ear could discern a certain note of amusement in it. “Though… It’s a real shame. I was pretty fond of this shirt.”

“Just keep it then”, Prompto jumps in. “You can wear it from time to time. It’s kind of… sexy, y’know?”

“‘Sexy’ is utterly not what my clothing is meant to be”, Ignis struggles to suppress a faint flattered smile.

“Too late”, the prince adds, his voice slightly suggestive.

Gladio nods agreeingly.

"Yeah, you should ruin your clothes more often."

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who's not familiar with Kirk's ridiculous ways of randomly ripping his shirt, here's what I'm talking about: https://i.imgur.com/WinyJJh.jpg


End file.
